


Paisley

by TheLittleRedWhoCouldWrite



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Retired Dean, Retired Sam, implied bottom Sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-12
Updated: 2017-02-12
Packaged: 2018-09-23 21:13:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9677744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLittleRedWhoCouldWrite/pseuds/TheLittleRedWhoCouldWrite
Summary: After his mind wall was broken and was healed, Sam knows he can’t be a hunter anymore, so he and Dean retire, and Sam ends up finding a homeless dog who was abused and together they heal.





	

“You want to do what?”

Sam sighs, rubbing his hands over his face. “Retire, Dean. Retire. I know you know what that word means.”

The brothers are sitting across for each other in a nondescript motel room, somewhere a couple days’ drive from the hospital they left Cas and Meg at. Sam’s still not happy about that arrangement, but there’s not much he can do about it.

“Sam, we can’t duck out now. Do you want Dick Roman to take over the world?”

“No, of course not. I don’t mean right this minute. I just mean… in the future. After the Leviathan thing gets worked out, we find a place and go off the grid. Please?” he doesn’t often use what Dean calls his “puppy eyes” to his advantage, but now is one of those times.

Dean looks like he’s going to say no, but he stops himself when he sees Sam’s face. “Fuckin’ hell, Sammy, those things are lethal.” He gets up and moves around the table to drag Sam to his feet. “I’ll think about it, okay? Now get your ass on that bed so I can fuck you into the mattress.”

Sam chuckles. “Yes, sir.”

* * *

Everything goes crazy after that. Frank goes AWOL, they meet a hacker named Charlie, and they steal a hunk of rock. Cas wakes up and they meet a prophet named Kevin. The idea of retirement doesn’t get brought up again they get rid of Dick Roman. Per Kevin’s notes, the weapon will make the Leviathan explode and anyone within a few feet will get dragged to Purgatory with it. Crowley begrudgingly volunteers to be the one to stab Dick, because apparently, Hell has a backdoor into Purgatory. Cas just as begrudgingly offers his own services in identifying which Dick Roman is the real one.

The plan goes smoothly- almost too smoothly- and Crowley and Cas vanish in an explosion of black goo. They make a break for it. The Impala is a little smashed up, but runs well enough to get them out of there.

Kevin gets dropped off at his mom’s house, where he is met by an angel in a petite, soft-spoken vessel. The angel seems properly cowed by Mrs. Tran. Sam’s glad to see that. He’s not sure he would be able to leave the kid here if he thought an angel was just going to sweep him off to the middle of nowhere.

“He’ll be fine,” Dean says when Sam’s gaze lingers on the closed front door of the suburban two-story. “He has our numbers if anything comes up.”

Sam nods. He takes a deep breath and reaches across the seat to grip Dean’s hand. “Let’s go. I’m hungry.”

“Food sounds good to me.”

* * *

They find a small diner on the edge of the city. Sam orders a chicken salad. Dean orders his usual burger. They sit across from each other, but their legs tangle together under the table top. Sam feels much better when he feels Dean’s calf press against his own. His foot hooks around the older man’s ankle.

“Have you thought about what I said?” he asks once the waitress has delivered their meals.

“About?” Dean responds, mouth already full.

“Retirement.”

Dean stops practically mid-bite. He finishes the action after a moment and a bitch face from Sam, takes a drink of his coke, and clears his throat. “You’re really serious about this.”

“I am.”

Dean nods slowly and sits back in his seat. “Okay. Let’s try it.”

“Really?” Sam can’t help staring. Dean Winchester just agreed to give retirement a try.

“Really. How do you want to go about this?”

“I want to go somewhere no one knows us, rent or buy a place, and settle down. Get jobs. Be some semblance of normal.”

“That actually sounds really nice,” Dean admits, picking up his burger again. “Let’s find a motel for the night and we can go house hunting in the morning.”

Sam smiles brightly and starts eating.

* * *

He doesn’t sleep well that night.

Why they got two queens, he isn’t sure, but they end up sharing anyways. Sam wakes up around one in the morning to Dean shaking him. His heart is pounding, his sheets tangled around his body. He can still feel the icy-fire of his dreams.

“Dean,” he gasps, grabbing at his brother’s hands. His sweat slick skin slips against Dean’s.

“I’ve got you,” Dean says firmly, tugging him upright and tucking him against the older man’s chest. “I’ve got you, Sammy.”

“Dean.” Sam clings to the man’s shirt.

“It’s okay. It was just a nightmare. It wasn’t real.”

Sam nods. He presses his nose against Dean’s collarbone and does his best to match his rapid breathing to the older man’s slower rhythm.

“Better?” Dean asks.

“A little,” Sam tells him.

“Come one, up you go.” Dean helps Sam untangle from the sheets and stand. “Let’s get you out of these.” He manhandles Sam out of his pajama shirt and pants. “How’s that?”

Sam tugs at Dean’s shirt, pulling it over his head and leaving him in nothing but his boxers as well. “I like this more,” he says cheerfully.

Dean laughs. “That’s my boy.” He pulls Sam into a lazy kiss. “Come on, it’s early still. Back to bed with you.”

He tucks Sam into the other bed and crawls in beside him. He presses close and wraps the younger man in his arms.

“Sleep, little brother. You’re here with me.”

* * *

House hunting is interesting and time consuming, but worth it.

The boys end up in Portland, Oregon, on the city limits. There are a lot of options to choose from. They look at a few apartments, but Sam wants a yard. Dean wants a decent-sized kitchen and a garage for the impala- or at least a driveway. Both want a master bedroom big enough for the king-size bed they’re saving for.

Between house-hunting sessions, they look for jobs. Dean quickly acquires a position at a garage that specializes in classic cars for wealthy clients. Sam lands a job as a bartender. With their combined incomes and what they already have saved, they should be able to get by.

The house they settle on is small- two bed, one bath- and in a quiet neighborhood. The pride flags hanging from a few porches help to solidify their decision. The house itself is nothing special and it’s going to need some work, but Dean is already excited to get started.

The yards aren’t much, but Sam’s never had a yard, let alone two. The grass is barely hanging on. Sam gets to work reviving it. He researches things he can add to the yard to help it. Once it starts to turn green again, he moves onto the flowerbeds in front of the porch. He digs out the weeds, does more research, and slowly fills the flowerbeds with a colorful array of flowers. Dean teases him at first, but stops when he realizes that the hobby helps Sam relax. He vaguely remembers reading something once about how keeping houseplants is good for students and decides this must be something similar.

Sam still has nightmares, though. Dean is woken at strange hours of the night by his brother tossing in the sleeping bag beside him. He’s usually able to get Sam calmed down quickly with gentle touches and soft words. After, Sam will tuck himself up against Dean’s side and match his breathing to his brother’s.

One night, though, Dean knows immediately that something is different. Sam doesn’t make much noise. Tonight, he’s making a lot of distressed, almost painful sounds.

“Sam,” Dean says softly, sitting up. Sam doesn’t wake up. He lays his hand on Sam’s shoulder and shakes him carefully. “Sammy.”

The younger man’s eyes snap open and he shoots upright. His hands grab at Dean’s shoulders, one flying toward the man’s throat. He freezes mid-motion, eyes wide, chest heaving.

“Dean,” he gasps, body jerking in a sudden sob. “Dean.” He slumps forward against Dean’s chest, trembling as he’s wrapped in his older brother’s arms. “’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Dean says soothingly, cradling the back of Sam’s head in one hand. “It’s okay. I’ve got you. You’re safe.”

“’m sorry,” Sam whimpers. “So sorry…”

“You did nothing wrong, little brother. Nothing wrong.” Dean presses a kiss to the top of his brother’s head. “You’re here, with me. You’re safe, Sammy.”

The man nods, tucking his head under Dean’s chin and curling his fingers into the man’s shirt.

“Tomorrow, we’re getting a real bed,” Dean says firmly. “I think that will help a little. We have the money now. Sound like a plan?”

“Okay,” Sam says quietly.

“Come on, lay down. Let’s go back to sleep. You’re going to need all of your energy to test out mattresses with me tomorrow.”

Sam laughs softly and does as he’s told. He loops one arm over Dean’s waist and presses his nose into the older man’s collarbone, and quickly falls asleep again.

* * *

Sam is waiting for the bus to ride home from the grocery store when he sees the dog. It’s in an alley near the stop, rummaging through a spilled trash bag. It’s far too skinny than is healthy for a dog of its size, and scars run down one side of its body, breaks in the matted golden fur.

He digs in his bags until he finds one of the packages of chicken he just bought. He opens it, careful not to make too much of a mess, takes out a smaller piece of chicken, and wraps the opened package tightly in its individual plastic bag. He sets his groceries down and cautiously approaches the dog, chicken held as far out as he can get it.

The animal is skittish and shrinks back from him, eyes darting from the food to his face and back. Sam sets the chicken down as close as he dares and backs away. It’s not until he’s sitting on the bench again that the dog approached the meat. It sniffs carefully, snatches it up, and vanishes into the shadows of the alley.

Sam smiles to himself, feeling good about having made a little bit of a difference.

The next week he goes shopping with Dean, which means they drive and he doesn’t see the dog. The week after that, though, Sam takes the bus again. He gets a package of two chicken breasts, just in case. If he doesn’t see the dog, he can just put the chicken in the freezer and they’ll find a use for it later.

As soon as he gets to the stop, he sees the dog. It’s barely visible behind a trash can, but definitely watching Sam. He sets down his groceries and opens the chicken. He makes sure all the plastic is gone before setting the meat down and backing away.

The dog doesn’t take the meat quite as far this time. Instead, it drags each piece behind the trashcan to eat. The sight warms Sam’s heart. He’s sure no one else cares for this dog beside him. He really wants to take it home with him, but he doesn’t think Dean would be okay with that. So for the next few weeks, he settles for feeding the dog whenever he goes grocery shopping. Over time, it begins to trust him more. It lets him come closer with the food and doesn’t hide when eating, once even getting close enough for Sam to see that it’s a girl dog. She seems to have realized that Sam’s not going to take the food away.

After a month of feeding the dog every Saturday, he goes shopping with Dean again. They take the impala, partially because Dean loves his car and partially because it’s pouring outside. Sam does his best to hide his concern for the dog, but on the drive home, he can’t hold back anymore.

“Dean, can you turn up here?” he asks, pointing.

His brother shoots him a confused look. “Dude, we have frozen stuff in the trunk. Now is not the time for a detour.”

“I know, I just- please.” He turns the puppy-eyes on full force and Dean sighs.

“Fine.”

He turns at the indicated corner and follows Sam’s directions until they’re parked across the street from the bus stop. Sam grabs one of the towels they still keep in the backseat out of habit and runs across the street to the alley. The dog is huddled in a miserable ball behind the trashcan. Her tail starts wagging slowly when she sees Sam, though, and she even approaches him.

“Hey, girl,” he says quietly, crouching so he’s at her level. “Come here.” she whines when he wraps the towel around her, but doesn’t struggle too much or try to bite him.  He keeps up a steady, soothing tone as he carries the skinny, shivering animal across the street.

Dean has gotten out of the car and circled around to Sam’s side. “Seriously? How’d you even know that was there?”

“It’s a bit of a long story. Open the back door and lay out a couple towels, please.”

“Hell, no! You know the rules!”

“I’m not leaving her here, Dean. Open the door.”

Dean glares for a moment, clearly trying to find a reason to protest, but evidently can’t come up with anything worthwhile. He grumbles to himself and opens the door. Sam bounces a little to keep warm while Dean spreads some towels out across the entire seat. He steps out of the way and Sam gets in, putting himself between the open door and the dog. Dean shuts the door and goes back around to the driver’s side.

Sam rubs the dog down with a towel on the way home, so she’s already pretty dry when they get to the house. As soon as he sets her down in the living room, she vanishes behind Dean’s sofa chair. Sam’s not surprised. He took her to a strange place, without any warning.

“A dog,” Dean says as he watched Sam put some raw ground beef and fresh water in bowls.

“She lives in the alley by the bus stop and started feeding her when I went grocery shopping,” Sam explains. “She was starving and has definitely been abused at some point, judging by her scars and how terrified of me she was at first. Look, I got attached and I couldn’t stand the thought of her out in the rain without any food.”

“What are you going to do with her?”

Dean follows Sam into the living room and leans against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest while the younger man slowly approaches the dog’s hiding place. Sam sets the bowls down and slides them across the floor until they’re in her line of sight. Then he retreats to the kitchen once more.

“I don’t know,” he says, finally answering Dean’s question. “I don’t want to look for her family, because they obviously don’t care about her if she even has one. If we take her to a shelter, there’s no telling what could happen to her.” He washes his hands and leans against the counter with a sigh.

“You want to keep her,” Dean says matter-of-factly.

“I do,” Sam admits.

Dean nods slowly, moving so he’s between Sam’s spread feet. “Alright. We’ll give it a try, see if she’s a good fit. You’re taking care of her, though. She’s you’re responsibility.”

Sam feels a bit like a little kid who just persuaded his parents to get him a puppy. “Of course.”

* * *

The dog stays behind the chair the rest of the night, except for one time when Sam takes her to the backyard to go to the bathroom. She tentatively marks around the fence. She eats all of the meat Sam set out for her, but not while they’re looking.

They’re preparing for bed when Sam presents his plan.

“I’m going to sleep on the couch tonight,” he says, putting his toothbrush in the cup by the bathroom sink. “So if she has a problem in the night, she’ll have someone familiar there.”

“I’ll give you a massage tomorrow, then, because that’s going to mess with your back.” Dean loops an arm around Sam’s waist and kisses him softly. “Come wake me up if you need something, okay? Don’t pull any of that self-sacrificing bullshit. Deal?”

Sam smiles, ducking his head down into Dean’s shoulder. “Deal.”

“Take my pillow and blanket.”

“Why? We have spares.”

“I think it’ll help you sleep. They smell like me, right?”

Sam laughs fondly. “I love you.”

“Yeah, yeah, love you, too. Go sleep on the couch.”

“Yes, sir.”

He snags the pillow and blanket, and returns to the living room. The dog is barely visible behind the chair, big brown eyes glinting in the light from the street lamp coming through the window.

“Hey,” Sam says softly, laying down on the couch. He punches the pillow into an acceptable shape and settles in. “I’m staying here tonight, okay? If you need anything, just wake me up. Sound good?”

* * *

Dean wakes up around on in the morning to a loud cry from the living room. He throws off the covers, hurries down the hall, and freezes in the doorway.

Sam is sprawled on the couch, blanket twisted around his legs. His expression is one of pain and terror. Dean starts forward, but stops when another movement catches his eye. The dog has emerged from behind the chair and is cautiously approaching the couch. As Dean watches, she licks Sam’s hand. He jerks and pulls away, but she doesn’t give up, instead moving to lick his face.

Sam’s brow furrows in confusion and his eyes flutter open. He lifts a hand to gently rub the dog’s head.

“Hey,” he murmurs. “Thanks.”

The dog stops licking, but doesn’t move away. She nudges his chin, tail wagging slowly. Dean wants to go to Sam, but he doesn’t dare move.

After a few minutes of watching Sam interact with the dog. Dean quietly retreats to the bedroom. He wasn’t sure about letting Sam keep the dog, but this changed his mind. The dog stays. It’s going to take her a while to be comfortable with them, but she’s good for Sam. She can provide something Dean can’t.

* * *

In the morning, Sam is in a much better mood than he usually is. He greets Dean with a fierce kiss and breakfast in bed.

“Good morning to you, too,” Dean says with a laugh, scooting over so that Sam can burrow against his side. “Have a good night?”

“I had a nightmare, but Paisley woke me up and helped me calm down. I don’t know how she knew, but she did.”

Paisley. He’s already named the dog.

“I know,” Dean says. “I saw.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Sam frowns.

“I didn’t want to frighten her. She’s not comfortable around me yet and I didn’t want to disturb whatever she was doing to help you. Sam, I’ve never seen you wake up that easily or calm down that quickly after a nightmare.”

“That was a first,” Sam admits.

“Well, it was good. She helped you, so she’s all good in my book.”

Sam smiles, pressing closer. “Thank you, Dean.”

“We should hit a pet store and get anything she’s going to need. We can go to one of those stores that allows dogs inside.”

“Sounds good to me. eat up while I clean the kitchen and we can shower together to save water.” He shoots Dean a wink as he slips from the bed.

* * *

They head to the store a few hours later. The shower probably used more water than if they’d showered separately, but Dean isn’t complaining.

Sam makes a makeshift leash and collar out of some rope. Paisley protests at first, clearly unhappy about the situation, but they can’t take her into the store without a leash and she settles down. Sam’s not happy, either. He says she’s upset. Dean can’t blame her. That rope looks rough and uncomfortable.

She’s skittish when they enter the store. Sam quickly finds a sales assistant who helps them pick out and purchase a harness. Paisley seems much happier with this arrangement. She starts to freak out when they take her to get examined at the vet clinic attached to the store, but Sam is able to keep her mostly calm. The vet says she’s a three-year-old Goldendoodle, a mix between a golden retriever and a poodle, and desperately in need of a bath, but despite being malnourished and clearly abused, otherwise healthy. He gives Sam instructions for how to feed her without her getting sick.

They make their way up and down the dog-centric aisles and fill a cart with everything they might need. Paisley is pretty calm for the rest of the trip, but vanishes back behind the chair as soon as Sam unhooks the leash from the harness.

He sighs, following Dean into the kitchen. “We betrayed her trust and now she’s mad at us. Hopefully she gets over it soon.”

“You’re took good for her to stay mad at you,” Dean points out, unloading the bags onto the kitchen table. “She’ll be fine.”

“I hope so.”

Dean kisses him softly, one hand curling around the back of Sam’s head. “Be patient.”

* * *

Sam spends the next few nights on the couch. He has nightmares two nights in a row, but Paisley is quick to wake and sooth him. When he moves back to the bedroom, she follows. She sleeps in the bed they picked up when they went shopping.

About a week after bringing Paisley home, Sam’s woken by her barking. He groans and rolls to see Cas standing in the bedroom doorway, looking down at the dog with a puzzled expression.

“You have a dog,” he says before either brother can speak.

“Cas,” Dean says with a grin, scrambling out of bed to hug the angel. “It’s good to see you. Sam, please calm your dog down?”

“Paisley,” Sam calls. “Hey. Quiet. Cas is a good guy.”

She whines, but stops barking. She paces nervously until Sam gets out of bed and hugs Cas as well.

“We missed you.” he says. “How was Purgatory?”

“Ugly and full of monsters. It took a long time to find you. What are you doing here?”

“We’re retired,” Dean says, crossing the room to pull a t-shirt from the dresser. He hands Sam one of his own. “This is our house.”

“Retired?” he seems confused, but then he seems to understand. “That’s good. I’m glad. You two deserve retirement.”

“Thanks, Cas,” Sam says with a smile. “Stay for breakfast? I’m going to take Paisley for a run, but Dean was planning on making bacon and eggs. I know you don’t eat, but…”

“I can stay,” Cas tells him with a smile. “Thank you.”

“Great. I’ll be back in about a half an hour. Sound good, Dean?”

“It’s a plan.” Dean kisses his lover softly. “Enjoy your run.”

* * *

Dean leads the way to the kitchen. Cas trails behind. He’s back in his suit and tie, with the trench coat over it. The sight is familiar and comforting. Dean quickly gets together the things he needs to make breakfast.

“It really is good to have you back,” he says, getting eggs from the fridge.

“It’s good to be back. Sam seems better.”

“He’s still having nightmares, but he’s definitely doing better. I think Paisley is helping. She takes care of him and he takes care of her. She’s only been staying here a week or so, but I’ve already seen an improvement.”

“He is much more stable than he was when I last saw him. I believe retirement was the best plan of action following defeating the Leviathan. I’m happy for you.”

Dean smiles, cracking eggs into a bowl. He can see Sam stretching on the front lawn while Paisley paces at the end of her leash. It looks like the younger Winchester is talking to the dog, which is such a Sam thing to do. “Thanks, Cas. That means a lot.”


End file.
